The Gold That Gilds Her Heart

The Love I love lacks the eyes of a doe, There are beauties that boast of much better— The body and bewitching face that awe, Yet, her modest assets tend to fetter, My garden earth with a deep shade of grey, Has more reddish tinge than that on her lips, Day’s dying dusk more lustre, men to sway, O than the lingering smile that she keeps, Her visage has warmth of late autumn's eve, I see wilted rose in her wrinkled cheeks, The bouquet of her bosom that oft reeks So foul, would make brave-hearts her room to leave…. What works for me is far from any art— I just love her for gold that gilds her heart. __________________________________________ Sonnet |16.11.2008| love, heart